


Alleys

by TrulyCertain



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 03:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18864706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrulyCertain/pseuds/TrulyCertain
Summary: Revelation comes with drizzling rain and riots outside SI. It hurts, but he’s learned not to expect anything else.(The aftermath of the Michelle Walthers sidequest.)





	Alleys

Revelation comes with drizzling rain and riots outside SI. It hurts, but he’s learned not to expect anything else.

Michelle Walthers, the woman who saved him from a burning lab and from a life he doesn’t remember. She didn’t even know him. But then, he guesses, neither did he.

He slipped the credit chips back into her purse, he would’ve felt like the worst kind of asshole otherwise, but the rest… He stands in a back alley, sheltered in a porch, and turns over yellowing cards. He doesn’t even need the dim porch-light anymore; he can read just fine in conditions that’d kill natural eyes.  _Dear Adam,_ he reads, and  _I suppose you’ve just turned ten now_ and  _I hope you’re growing up happy and that you’re well._ He pauses, just for a second, at  _I hope you’re safe. You should have a chance to be ordinary._

 

_Where’d I come from?_

_We don’t know, kid. The agency wouldn’t tell us. We have to do this again?_

_Dad…_

_That’s all we got. It was a closed adoption._

_I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re my mom and dad, I just… I wanted to know. In case it was important._

_I know. I’m sorry, son. But wherever it was, we’re damn glad to have you._

 

 

He didn’t ask often. Truth be told, he didn’t much care. Mom and Dad were… Mom and Dad. They were enough.

( _Refused for adoption rights. It became clear that Margie Jensen didn’t have the right temperament.)_

More than anything, he wishes they were with him and he could ask them what the hell happened. Why they stole him. Get an answer this time. He wishes he didn’t have a mission on his hands and Sarif breathing down his neck, like always. (Sarif, who knew all this and decided it was better not to tell him. Who used a backdoor to steal his goddamn life.  _Who needs to tell Jensen? He’s just the hired grunt, the good guard dog. He’ll just shut up and smile and say_  yes sir  _like he always does._ This is what being good, shutting up and putting up and doing his job, got him.)

He wants a cigarette. But more than that, he doesn’t want to get ash on any of this. He can’t risk singeing anything. He pages through years of missed chances, fingers careful, and wonders how the hell Sarif tech can tremble. Psychosomatic, maybe.

Megan offered, once.  _I could run through the databases, see if any matches come up?_

_Why the hell would you want to do that? …Sorry. I just. What brought this on?_

_I figured… I don’t know. Maybe you’d want to see if anything ran in the family._

_Data confidentiality not an issue now?_

_You’re different. I love you._

_Thanks, Meg, but… I know who my family are. I’ll take my chances. It’s not as if I’m getting you pregnant tomorrow._

_As if!_

They laughed at that, like there was nothing to worry about. Like there’d always be another tomorrow. That feels like a different life. He tries not to think of blood on a laboratory floor and fingers round his throat.

And more than that… He knew her voice. Michelle Walthers. There was something in the tone of it that felt like fuzzy memories and the way he’s always hated the sound of latex gloves without knowing why. The blurred moments when he didn’t have a name, or he didn’t know what it was; the ones he could never get a hold of and assumed were dreams, false memories.

He’s wondered enough times who called him Adam. This shouldn’t be anything new.

He figured it was the hospital. He never thought… Who the hell thinks they’re a genetic experiment?  _Adam._ First of his kind. _A freak,_ someone spat at him on the subway this morning. He wants to laugh hollowly at that. Or bolt down a drink, another ten when that doesn’t work anymore.

“ _Jensen_.” The infolink crackles into life, and underneath Pritchard’s snappishness, there’s almost… concern. “ _Did you find anything?”_

He folds the cards as carefully as he can with these sleek, wrong hands. Tucks them into an inner pocket, zips it carefully to protect from the rain pounding down a few feet away. Feels them against his chest when he exhales. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

**Author's Note:**

> This might be part of [Proprioception](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16118213/chapters/37653095) eventually, but for now... have a small piece?


End file.
